


Oct. 12th, “What If I Don’t See It?”

by Morpheus626



Category: Mr. Robot (TV)
Genre: Gen
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2020-07-03
Updated: 2020-07-03
Packaged: 2021-03-04 23:21:00
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 432
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/25044553
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Morpheus626/pseuds/Morpheus626
Summary: Fictober 2019 once more, day and prompt are the title!My only synopsis is that Mr. Robot ending has made me sad (though I’m glad it’s ending at a good logical point for the creator and as the creator intended) so I wrote this monologue sort of thing for Elliot.
Kudos: 1





	Oct. 12th, “What If I Don’t See It?”

Hello, friend.

It hasn’t been this empty, this quiet, in awhile. I don’t know if I remember the last time it felt like just you and me. It’s nice, in an echo chamber sort of way. I need to talk to someone, tell someone this. May as well be you. 

Lately, it’s been like… Seeing the end of a road, far out on the horizon, knowing that eventually you’ll reach it and have to either turn around, or find a way to forge ahead on an unpaved, unproven, path.I can feel it approaching; I’m sure of it. The end of… something. 

How many times have I questioned all of this? Done and tried to undo things that leave marks you can’t remove. Now I question the end. Because I can feel it just fine. 

But what if I don’t see it? 

How do you plan for a road you can’t see, an unpaved path in an unmarked field that you can’t find on the horizon? I don’t know. And I guess I’m hoping somehow, you would. Even if you are only in my head, as limited as I am in knowledge.

It’s a strangely helpful futility. Like the patient with an incurable, rapidly deteriorating cancer, telling friends and family about the diagnosis. Everyone knows there’s no answer, no solution. 

But there is comfort in disclosure.

Maybe that’s why I’m telling you all this. Locked in my head, in my room, in my apartment, as far away from anyone else as I can get, while I deal with the creeping feeling of an end. Is this preparation? Of the simplest and least effective kind, maybe.

And because…maybe you won’t be here anymore. I can’t explain it, this itch in me that says you’ll be gone and He’ll be gone and… I don’t know what to do with that. Despite any admittedly small efforts to the contrary on my part, you are a true friend now. You’ve been along for everything. I don’t want to say I’m enjoying the voyeuristic aspect of it or something but… I don’t want to be alone. Alone seems too open,too empty.

It’s stupid, but it makes me think of program updates. Somewhat inevitable, but the average person will put them off as long as possible, never do them at all if they can. Just like putting off any other change. Or an ending. 

I hope, at the end of this unseen road, you’re waiting on the horizon for me, friend. In the meantime, a toast in silence and tears. To the beginning of the end. 


End file.
